


A Noble Loss

by Floris_Oren



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Hohenheim is mentioned, Its dangerous, Other, Trish Elric first peron, because we must remember the 3rd of october, do not do human transmutations people, its not cool, the rest in second, this is finished, tomorrow and thursday, will be uploaded today, you lose limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-09 07:20:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20849633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floris_Oren/pseuds/Floris_Oren
Summary: The last few days of Trisha Elric and the ensuing outcome.





	1. I, Trisha

**Author's Note:**

> I'm revisiting one of my favorite anime, FMA. i love both the original and brotherhood. I wrote this baed on the backlash episode where we find out about Trisha and how Edward and Alphonse lost their limbs/body.   
I mostly never write in first person. So I apologia that it's shit.

I can hear my lovely boys arguing in the office upstairs above my kitchen; they never want to leave unless they come across a problem and need a break, or if I nag at them to go outside for ounce and climb trees. 

They then turn trees into other things. The forest has a growing amount of trees with scary faces “carved” into them. Some of the woodsmen around here are convinced that it’s haunted. 

I feel that tell tale tickle at the back of my throat; dropping the plate in my hand, back into the sudsy water, I turned my head to cough. It takes a while to clear it, and in the end the hand I used has blood on it. 

I dip my hand into the water; then pull the drain. After the water is gone, I rinse the sink and start up a new batch of water for the dishes. I can hardly do anything around the place as I used too. Whatever it is I got is zapping away my strength. I can feel it sometimes, leaving my body. 

The boys are worried; they come down more often to check on me. Sometimes I can’t get up from where I sat down to rest, and they bring me a blanket and some tea. 

It’ll be soon. I know this. I can feel it. Once day, I won’t wake up. Or I’ll go to sleep forever. I want my last view to be them. Though, I wish Hoenheim would come back. Why won’t he come back? Why does that man never write? I need him. 

No, my boys need him.

But, they’ll grow up without him, and without their father they’ll beat the world into submission around them. I know I cannot teach them what a father could teach. A boy needs a man for some things in life that a mother just wouldn’t understand. 

Knowing this, I think I’ll regret dying. Because there won’t be someone there to buffer their rowdy, boyish, temperance onto the world. People won’t understand them. Or they’ll dismiss them as nothing to be concered about. 

Though, according to Edward’s teachers, he’s more likely to punch someone than run home crying to me. 

In which I’ll of course comfort him and talk to the other kids parents about how bullying is not acceptable. We might be a small, farming community, that doesn’t mean that everyone will get along with everyone else. My boys have started their fair of fights. Mostly with each other, over Winry for some reason. 

I finally out the dish in the drying rack; I’ve taken far too long to scrub it. The sun outside is setting and the sky is a glorious, dusty rose colour with bright oranges and yellows as it fades into twilight. 

I hear the office door upstairs open and shut, the boys running downstairs. They’re laughing and whispering. I turn around, drying my wrinkled hands on my apron. 

“So, what are my two brave alchemists been up to all afternoon?” I asked. I smile as best I can. I smile for them. I might long for my husband, but they need me more right now than his memory. I need to be here, in the moment. 

“We made this!” and from behind them a bundle of fabric appeared. I gasped, it’s one of my old dresses. The season has been so harsh and with the epidemic going around things have been harder for us. The dress’ tears and holes have been repaired, as if they had gotten it from one of the Central store catalogs. The apron looks brand new as well. 

“We had to cannibalize another dress and apron for this one.” Alphonse said. “We hope you aren’t mad.” 

“Yeah, but it’s brand new, and we needed the material to fix it.” Edward says. 

I smiled even wider; “I’m glad you did.” I tell them. 

  
  



	2. I, Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's almost time.

September has turned into October. I’m feeling fainter than last week; I’m wearing the dress the boys have made for me. And lying in bed. These last few days have been hard. Even with Pinaco’s help with the house and boys. The coughing hardly goes away and sometimes I see him standing by my side. Telling me to get better, to take care of the boys. 

But, I know I cannot. No. It is my time. 

They come into my room; I invite them onto the bed. 

“Boys, come here.” I tell them. And they do, because they are such good little boys. “I need you to do something for me.” I said. 

Edward took my head; “Okay, Mom.” 

“There’s some money in the chest. I’ve set it aside for the two of you.” I’m breathing hard now. My chest feels weird. 

“Mom?”

“Edward…?” 

“Yeah, Mom…” 

“Make me a wreath…..would you…? Please?”

“Sure, mom. I’ll make you one.” 

I smile at him. Then, I go away. 

~*~*~*~*~

Edward and Alphonse stood with the others as the funeral came to a close and the farmers who helped them bury their mother, along with the pastor, left them to it. 

Edward thought it was cruel to leave two kids under the age of sixteen at their mother’s grave; even without a hint of a positive word. But, maybe they knew that he and Al would never accept it from anyone. 

He felt like punching someone. 

His wreath hung on the tombstone; and the life they knew is over. They would have to continue on themselves; without their mothers smile. 

“Brother?” 

“Yeah?”

“I’m cold, and hungry.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Edward asked. 

They both knew the answer to that. They had nowhere to go. The house they grew up in is devoid of life, everything is grey, with a foggy filter before their eyes. If they went back, Edward didn’t know what he’d do. 

“Alright.” Alphonse finally said. And sat down. 

They didn’t know how long they sat there. But the moon and risen and yet only the wind held company with them over their silent vigil of their mother’s grave. 

Neither boy said it, but they both are thinking it. What, and how, they’d get her back. 

  
  



	3. I, Reborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end is only the beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot about today. I've been so busy. But here is the final chapter of this fan fiction. I also almost forgot to write the part where they set their home on fire. So added that right quick. Thank you to everyone who has read this small. badly written fan fiction. :) I think you might see more FMA from me.

Edward and Alphonse left their teacher in the early parts of Summer; promising to be back, though they were both lying. They knew that what they were about to do would get them both kicked to the moon and back and that Teacher and her husband wouldn’t look at them ever again, even in a gentle/angry type of way they’d grown used to from the woman. 

Instead, they turned their backs on them in much the same way they had done to their hometown; only returning to gain back which they had lost. Both with a hope in their heart that it will work. 

No. Edward corrected these thoughts, it had to work. It had to work. 

~*~*~*~*~

_ “What is that?”  _

_ “NO, NOT MY BROTHER!”  _

_ “Edward…!” _

_ “Alphonse!” _

*~*~*~*~

It took many days for Edward’s head to clear off the foggy depression; not even Mustang’s visit with his second could bring him out of it completely. Alphonse did his best to be cheerful. Though, now they were mourning another loss. 

Or was it? 

Is anything truly “lost”? 

Edward sat out on the lawn with an old book, just to keep him and Alphonse out of Pinaco and Winry’s path of creation of the automail limbs Edward would be getting in a few months time. But, he had to get stronger. He worked his muscles as much as he could before Alphonse called a halt and put him back in the wheelchair. 

Neither had written to their Teacher. 

She didn’t need to know their shame quite yet, they both privately feared that they’d regret it when, or even if, Teacher came in search of them. 

Edward looked up, and into the sky. The sun is setting. It’s like every other one before it, and after it. Nothing different. Nostalgic, or awe inspiring. 

They learnt their lesson; no more human transmutations. Now, only a way to regain Alphonse’s body, and maybe his own limbs. 

~*~*~*~

The fire rose into the night sky. It was an out of control burn. The Elric’s family home won’t be standing by the end of it. The boys had to make sure of that. There could be nothing left to mark the end of their adolescents and the beginning of their adulthood. 

The trip is short; there is nothing in Resembool that they need with the exception of Winrey and Pinako. Those two would always be family. The boys would die for them if they have too. 

They stood in silence, a hulking piece of armour and a small, blonde; watching as everything turned to ash. Their toys, the alchemy books (save one) and just about everything else they had known since they were babies. 

Their purpose in life right now, was to set things right and gain back what they had lost. The third of October marked this beginning. They both knew they would never forget it. Even with the reminder in Edward’s state alchemy watch. 

How could they forget this date? It was almost as important as the death date of their mother. 

  
  
  


END

  
  
  



End file.
